


Notte Stellata

by kyaasnow



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Asexual Otabek, Fluff, M/M, Otabek is crushing so hard, Potya cameo, Slightly angsty fluff, Soft Boys, Yuri is a dork, it's not explicitly stated on the page but yes he's ace, yuri is a sleepy little bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyaasnow/pseuds/kyaasnow
Summary: It's someone's birthday, and Otabek has a crush.





	Notte Stellata

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I am continuing my descent into the Otayuri Underworld with this pointlessly fluffy fic. If you've read my earlier piece, I like to consider this as sort of a prequel to that.
> 
> This is so short I have nothing else to say here. Cookies to anyone who knows what the title is from.
> 
> Thanks, again, to my friend/beta/fellow YOI trash [reebeegee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/reebeegee/pseuds/reebeegee) for reading through this first!

Otabek's alarm goes off at 2:50 am, but he is already awake.  He'd tried to sleep.  He went to bed at 9:30, earlier than usual.  And he probably got an hour or two of sleep until his body woke itself up, too anxious about waking up on time.  So he lay there, alternating between staring at the ceiling and burying his face in his pillow, until now.

Ten minutes until it's midnight in St. Petersburg.  Otabek has a call to get ready for.

He turns on his bedroom light and then pads over to his tiny bathroom.  His hair is a mess, but nothing that a quick brush-through won't fix.  The shaved parts around the sides of his head are starting to grow out.  He'll need to shave it down again soon.

Even though the person on the other line won't be able to smell him, he brushes his teeth anyway.  For a long moment, he debates whether or not to change his shirt.  Which is dumb.  It's obviously the middle of the night, so for him to appear on FaceTime in an old, faded Blue Jays T-shirt wouldn't be a disaster.

But Blue Jays means Toronto, and JJ, so Otabek shucks it off and pulls on a plain gray shirt.  Because he's a considerate friend.

By the time he's arranged himself sideways on his bed, back to the wall, with his laptop propped up on a pillow on his lap, it's 2:58 am.  His heart is racing.  He doesn't know why.  This shouldn't be a big deal.  Calling a friend on his birthday?  No.  This is normal.  Right?  Otabek has friends.  He's not completely unfamiliar with the concept.  These are just normal fears – will his call be welcome?  Will he say the right things?  What if--

It's 3:00 am.

There's no need to scroll to click on the name – he's Otabek's most recent call.

Otabek stares at himself on the screen as it rings.  After some long seconds, he figures that perhaps it's too late at night in St. Petersburg, too, and maybe he should just send a text instead.

But just as he goes to hang up, the call connects.

It takes a moment for the image to piece together over the iffy wifi, but then there's the face that Otabek's become increasingly familiar with.  Bleary blue-green eyes.  Messy blonde hair.  Hair that is currently haloed around his head on a pillow.

"Otabek?" Yuri says.  His voice is a little husky, as if it hasn't been used yet.

"Yura.  Happy birthday."

The smallest of grins hits Yuri's lips before he looks away from the camera to school it back into a neutral expression.

"Thank you," Yuri says, but his eyes are bright in that way that makes Otabek want to smile, too.

He does smile.

"I told you I was going to call," he says.  "Were you expecting me?"

Yuri shrugs.  "I dunno, I wasn't really thinking about it today."  Says the boy who is very obviously lounging on his bed with the lights on and some snacks just inside the camera frame – despite it being the middle of the night.

Otabek's heart squeezes a little at the idea of Yuri staying up, waiting on Otabek's call.  Maybe he'd been nervous, too.  Maybe he wondered if Otabek would forget, and he'd have stayed up for nothing.  Maybe he'd gotten up and brushed his teeth, too.

"So am I the first?" he asks.

"First what?"

"One to tell you happy birthday on your birthday?"

Yuri smirks.  "Technically it wasn't my birthday yet.  It was 11:59 when you called."

"It was on the :00 here."

"My birthday, my city, my time zone."

Otabek's lips tilt up.  As if he could have expected anything less from Yuri Plisetsky, even on his own birthday.

There's some rustling over the speaker as Yuri shifts around to lay on his stomach.  Potya appears momentarily, peeking over at the screen and then deciding Otabek is not worthy of attention right now.  In the movement, though, Yuri's hoodie slips down his shoulder.  It catches on his shirt and suddenly Otabek is getting a generous glimpse of Yuri's collarbone.

It looks smooth.  God, Yuri's skin always looks so smooth and soft.  He doesn't even have pimples or acne scars like any other teenage boy would.  The thought makes Otabek all too aware of his own skin issues.  He has a zit right now, just above his left eyebrow, and he wonders if Yuri's noticed it, and if so, what he thinks about it.

Yuri rests his face in one hand.  Fingers sliding over his cheek.

Everything about Yuri's physical appearance is so soft, soft, soft.  Soft like Otabek wants to own it.  But his personality is not soft at all – and that's what draws Otabek for real.  How fiercely Yuri _feels_ things.

"Well, you're sixteen now," Otabek says.  "Feel any different?"

"Like I'm getting closer to the end of my career."  His mouth slams shut immediately.  Yuri's eyes grow big as he buries his chin in the pillow he's propped up on.  "Forget I said that."

Otabek wishes he could.  He wishes he hadn't even mentioned anything about getting older.  Because he remembers being fifteen, sixteen, feeling his body growing and changing.  Skating like he was living in someone else's skin.  Getting used to the extra inch in height only to have something else betray him.  He's still not completely adjusted to it, and even at eighteen he's still developing, but it doesn't hurt as much now.  Even the age thing doesn't bother him – if Yuuri Katsuki can reach the podium at 24 even after the disasters of his previous season, then there's hope.

But here's the downside of Yuri feeling everything too much.  He's been the best for so long.  Beating out all the juniors, and then on the podium at every competition in his senior debut.  Of course he'd be hyperaware of his body's changes.

"I sent you a gift," Otabek says now.  As if Yuri said nothing.

"A gift?"  The shock in Yuri's expression sends a rush of emotion through Otabek's chest.  "What is it?"

"You'll see.  Tracking says it should get there by tomorrow.  Or, today, I guess."

"I hate surprises.  Tell me."

"It's a good surprise."

" _Tell me!_ "

Otabek laughs.  This only makes Yuri's face flush in irritation.  "You'll see in a few hours.  I promise."

Yuri frowns.  And it's cute as heck, but Otabek would never, ever say that out loud.

Just like he'd never say out loud that maybe, perhaps, he has something like a crush.

"Any birthday plans?"

"I think Viktor and Katsudon want to take me to dinner.  I won't go, obviously."

"Why not?  Free food."

"What?"

"Free food," Otabek repeats slowly.  When Yuri quirks one blond eyebrow, Otabek elaborates.  "Don't they do that there?  When it's your birthday, other people buy you food."

Yuri's eyes narrow.  "I guess... one time Mila bought me pirozhki on the way home from practice."

"Yeah."  Otabek pretends like he wasn't holding his breath, hoping that Yuri _at least_ let people close enough to spoil him on his birthday.  "So go with Viktor and Yuuri and order the most expensive thing on the menu.  And dessert."

A grin slowly makes its way onto Yuri's face.  "You have good ideas, Beka."

"And send me a picture to make me jealous."

"As if I wasn't already going to do that."

Yuri's voice has gotten lower, slower.  His eyes are starting to droop.  They haven't been talking that long, but if Yuri's been awake this whole time, he's probably tired.  And he, like Otabek, will be getting up early to start training.  Worlds isn't until the end of the month, but they have to be at their best.

"I'll let you go to bed," Otabek says.

"Okay," Yuri responds through a yawn.  He doesn't cover his mouth, providing Otabek with a good look at his molars.  "Potya, come say goodbye to Uncle Beka."

Yuri's never used this term before, but it makes Otabek feel warm.  Maybe Yuri's just a bit delirious from lack of sleep, but Otabek would rather think of it as... really... Yuri is letting him that close.

Potya allows himself to be picked up by his owner and doesn't react at all as his face is pushed into the camera.

"Goodbye, Uncle," Yuri murmurs into the cat's fur, taking on a regal tone as he pretends to be Potya.

It's the dumbest thing Otabek's ever witnessed Yuri do willingly, and he _adores_ it.  Adores it as in, he wishes he'd whipped out his phone and recorded this.  So he could watch it whenever he was feeling down.  Whenever he needed a reminder that there were wonderful things in the world.  He just needs this: Yuri, in the middle of the night, voice husky, hair a mess, collarbone on display, doing stupid animal voices.

"Bye, Potya," Otabek murmurs.

Yuri puts the cat to the side.  His face is pink, as if he only just realized what he's done.

"Happy birthday, Yuri."

"Thanks," he says.  And then, with his face half in the pillow and his cheeks going even redder and the crease between his eyebrows smoothed away, he tells Otabek, "By the way, you were the first."

Otabek never knows what to do with this.  With Yuri's vulnerability.  It feels like a gift.  Like a power he's been given, and he hasn't the first clue how to use it.  All he can think is, _Don't scare him away._

So he says, "Cool," as if it's no big deal.  And Yuri looks directly into the camera, and Otabek thinks it may be his turn to blush.

"Good night, Yuri."

"Good night, Beka."

Yuri hangs up first.

Otabek stares at himself on the screen for a moment.  He doesn't look as breathless as he feels.  Good.

He closes the laptop.  In a few hours, he'll have to wake up.  So he turns off the light again, gets back in bed, and presses his cheek into the pillow.

Sleep does not come.  Instead, images of Yuri trail through his mind.  His heart is racing like it does just after finishing a program.

He turns to face the ceiling.

"I'm screwed," he says, because there's no one else there to hear it.

**

_Text alert_

7:43 pm

 **Yuri Plisetsky  
** YOU ADOPTED A TIGER IN MY NAME.  

 **Yuri Plisetsky  
** still hate surprises tho

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. The tiger adoption thingy is legit! I didn't specify, but Otabek could either have "adopted" a tiger at a local zoo (in which case Yuri would have received a photo of the animal & a certificate), OR the World Wildlife Fund has tiger adoption kits (see them [here](https://gifts.worldwildlife.org/gift-center/gifts/Species-Adoptions/Tiger.aspx?sc=AWY1200WCGE1&gclid=CIjP_52Jh9QCFdM7gQodGj8CZA)). And yes, I researched it because I'm an unimaginative nerd.


End file.
